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<title>(pretty soon now) you’re gonna get older by radiodurans</title>
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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/26545435">(pretty soon now) you’re gonna get older</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/radiodurans/pseuds/radiodurans'>radiodurans</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>Pink in the Night [3]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Fashion Model RPF, Harry Styles (Musician)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Drug Use, F/M, Gender Exploration, Hallucinogens, Harry is a Stealth Trans Man AU, In which I rewrite my own fanfiction from a transmasculine angle, M/M, Mitch is also a Stealth Trans Man AU, Multi, Nonbinary Character, Other, Queering Heterosexuality via Nonbinary Nonsense, Remix, Trans Male Character, Transgender Relationships, Vignette, and you are welcome to either read it or judge me for being up my own ass</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>In-Progress</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-09-19</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-09-19</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-06 07:33:42</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Explicit</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>678</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/26545435</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/radiodurans/pseuds/radiodurans</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>
  <i>“You don’t always have to try something to know you don’t like it. I never tried to be a woman and I turned out just fine,” says H.</i>
</p><p>  <i>A little twinge of discomfort rises in his chest at the joke. It’s not that he doesn’t mean it, it’s just that, well–</i></p><p>Or</p><p>A meditation on transness in the inverse; an excuse to write transmasculine erotica; a toast to my last few weeks in a pre-T body; a transmasc remix of <a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/22276594">Oh! You Pretty Things.</a></p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Harry Styles/Camille Rowe, Harry Styles/Mitch Rowland, Harry Styles/Original Male Character, Harry Styles/Sarah Jones/Mitch Rowland (background)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>Pink in the Night [3]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/series/1640836</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>4</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>15</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>(pretty soon now) you’re gonna get older</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><ul class="associations">


        <li>
            Inspired by

            <a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/22276594">Oh! You Pretty Things</a> by <a href="https://archiveofourown.org/users/radiodurans/pseuds/radiodurans">radiodurans</a>.
        </li>

    </ul><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>I couldn’t decide where to begin when writing my first transmasc Harry fic so - I decided to start where I began.</p><p>Much love, I hope you like it.</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>The sky is glowing in dusky pastels by the time they remember the mushroom-shaped bulge in Mitch’s pocket. Mitch pulls the baggie out of his tight jeans and allows the light wind to ripple it against his face. They’ve spent many evenings this October watching the sun set over the hills, high as a kite, laughing as they birth genius and rubbish. In these precious hours, H doesn’t know how he survived recording in a glorified van. Post-sobering up, he remembers the price of his drugs and his house and the privilege of his insane deal with Sony and thinks – <em>ah yes. Right. That.</em></p><p>Mitch rests the baggie between them and grabs his phone. He’s quiet while he flips through it, which makes H itchy for an attention-seeking jab.</p><p>“Have a date?” he says. Mitch stays stone-faced, scrolling through his phone. H leans over and rests his head on Mitch’s shoulder which produces a small smile.</p><p>“Picking out music,” he says. H hums with discontent when Mitch searches for the <em>Grateful Dead</em>.</p><p>“That is <em>guaranteed</em> to give me a bad trip,” he says. Mitch sighs and navigates to the home page.</p><p>“You‘ve never even tried it,” he says. H runs his fingers through Mitch’s long hair, producing a small shiver. He kisses behind Mitch’s ear, which makes the shiver grow. The way Mitch’s body responds automatically to touch is so unlike his own. Perhaps he’s become desensitized after a decade of hugs with strangers.</p><p>“You don’t always have to try something to know you don’t like it. I never tried to be a woman and I turned out just fine,” says H.</p><p>A little twinge of discomfort rises in his chest at the joke. It’s not that he doesn’t <em>mean</em> it, it’s just that, well–</p><p>H grabs the bag, opens it, and rolls the mushrooms between his fingers. He’s just not used to not being stealth, is all. It’s an amazing stroke of luck that he’s found a trans close-collaborator, but closeness to another trans person for the first time in his life has inspired all sorts of other. . .questions. Not <em>concerns</em> really, he’s not <em>doubtful</em> of his own transness, if anything their t4t thing <em>addeth</em> rather than <em>taketh away</em> the gender of it all –</p><p>“You’re getting dirt in the bag,” says Mitch. He’s navigated to his Spotify home page now and is scrolling down it. H pulls out his curious hand and wipes it on his corduroy trousers.</p><p>“Sorry,” he says. Then, his eye catches something in Mitch’s recommended albums. David Bowie pushing back his long yellow hair with a distant look in his eyes. <em>Hunky Dory</em>. Apparently, they’re what the kids seem to call <em>vibing</em>, because he clicks on it without Harry saying anything.</p><p>“Bowie?” he asks, because he’s never one to assume they’re on the same page, even though they are about ninety-nine percent of the time.</p><p>“Love it,” says H. He splits open the ziplock with a small <em>crack</em> and shakes the mushrooms into his hand. Mitch holds out his hand; H drops the mushroom inside. Mark Ronson’s string arrangement warbles through the phone’s speakers. In unison, they tip the shrooms inside of their mouths. H savors the earthy taste on his tongue before swallowing it down. He sticks out his long tongue to show Mitch that it’s gone. Mitch loops his ankle around H’s and rests his phone in the grass. He plucks at the E2-string on the guitar beside him and watches it vibrate.</p><p>“Ch-ch-ch-ch changes,” he sings quietly as David kicks off the song with his funky <em>oh yeah!</em></p><p>“Think you’re coming in a bit early,” says H. He snaps the ziplock baggie closed and puts it in his pocket. Mitch presses his thumb into the bow of H’s lips with a little smile.</p><p>“Timing doesn’t matter. It’s all about if you feel it,” he says. H hums and opens his mouth. He guides the thumb inside with the tip of his tongue. Mitch huffs out a laugh when H clacks his teeth against his thumbnail.</p><p>“I feel it,” he says.</p>
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